


The Timeline Project

by scripttura



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - BeastTale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Birdtale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Dancetale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Errortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Horrortale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Inktale (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Original, Alternate Universe - Underfell (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underfresh (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underlust (Undertale), Alternate Universe - Underswap (Undertale), Eventual Smut, Highly developed characters, Listen if it exists it's gonna be here, Multi, Non-Traditional Portrayals, Other, Polyamory Shenanigans, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reverse Harem, Reverse Harem AU, Sans fucks up ! Every Sans fucks up ! You get a fuck up and you get a fuck up and you, Slow Burn, Underground, Yea Sans fuckin hates you
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-11
Updated: 2019-04-11
Packaged: 2020-01-11 20:38:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18431660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scripttura/pseuds/scripttura
Summary: It's the Fellan who discovers it first. A world, half torn by the seams, left like a rotten carcas in all it's fractured, destructive glory.It's terrifying. Nothing has survived. As the only one with the drive to do anything about it, he reaches out for help, and sets into motion something neither he, his alternates, or the multiverse will see coming.And what do you have to do with all this? You've just fallen into the underground no more than a month ago, and Sans (your sans) is still giving you the cold shoulder. He keeps looking to those ruin doors like they hold the truth to it all, and yet where some days he can't keep his eyes off of you, others he won't even look your way.Even more skeletons keep popping up, and the barrier isn't coming down anytime soon. What the hell's going on?





	1. two's a party

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy. uh, basically this is scavenged from a long-running old plot i had for a bunch of my sans muses. it hit my rp partners _hard_ , and i've wanted to jump on that reverse harem au train for ages so, i figured why not? each sans is going to have very untraditional nicknames than what you may be used to, and if it gets too confusing i'll leave a key in the end notes or, come to it, rewrite each to smth easier to remember!
> 
> short first chapter to hit the ground running!

It’s not the first time you’ve spent the night on the Skeleton brother’s couch. And honestly? You doubt it’ll ever be the last. Nevertheless, Papyrus sports you with bright eyes and kindly smile, gesturing to the made 'bed' of yours.

It’s not home, but it’s still a homely touch, going as far to even put on a fitted sheet over the cushions.

“Thanks, Papyrus.” You sigh, and give the enigmatic skeleton a tired but warm smile, “I really do appreciate it  and you’re absolutely sure Sans won’t mind?”

Papyrus, for all the grace and good nature he’s blessed with, laughs in a chittering way with those flashing fangs of his, “OF COURSE NOT, DEAREST HUMAN! YOU’RE ALWAYS MORE THAN WELCOME TO HABITUATE THE … _COUCH._ ”

The way he hesitates to call it a couch doesn’t surprise you ( it’s a disaster ). Neither does the 'dearest' bit, and yet you flush slightly all the same. He’s been a sweetheart ever since you met his enthusiastic self, sly and witty in a way one might not notice, and starved for company in such a glaring light. You genuinely believe you’re always welcome in his eyes  or eye-sockets? You’re not sure how this works.

“Either way, uh, thanks.”

You’re still not certain about the 'sans being okay' part with this. You haven’t seen him since you arrived in the dead of the night half an hour ago, the skeleton usually so quick to watch your every movement like a hawk. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think the guy hated you, only he said not but a week ago,

_“look kid, it’s not that i don’t trust you but… uh. i... don’t? i don’t. sorry but not sorry.”_

You remember how his words cut you harder than the frost biting at your cheeks. You’re certain he’d almost turned you down from staying that night, watching you slowly freeze to death on the porch with those unreadable, faded lights. When he had finally cracked the door open and let you in you could’ve cried, your eyes too dry from the arctic cold to let you.

So now, with Sans miraculously absent and not vulturing over your shoulder, things just feel… off. But you’re not going to turn down a night someplace warm and ( relatively ) safe. It’s this, the Inn that you definitely don’t have the g for, or sneaking into the library once more before closing time to huddle where you wouldn’t be seen.

So you take one last look around the tacky living room, Papyrus and his endearing demeanor, and settle in for what you hope is a good night’s sleep.

You’re going to need it.

  


Shouting. Two voices; one angry, one more near lethal. Identical but not, the rise and fall of a scratchy snarl and a smooth murmur until the voices turn are joined by a scrabbling noise, alike bone on wood and clinking on metal before the door near slams open.

“ _drux._ ”

Two sets of footsteps; but not just any steps, the kind even your waking mind knows too well despite so little time, just in the way slippers and socks alike slide against carpet.

“what? ‘s not like your fuckin’ brother’s gonna hear. he’s deadass asleep and you know it.”

That voice again. The same but… not? Something nervous clutches at the center of your chest. Sans alone made you anxious, and you’re not sure why. But… it sounded like _him_ , but not. Low, rough in a warm way.

“drux. tone it down, seriously.”

Sans’ voice. His _actual_ voice, and he sounds… concerned? Almost? You aren’t sure, but even as soft he sounds in comparison, it doesn’t ease you in the slightest as light hits the back of your eyelids. Cautiously slow do you stretch , one arm overhead.

“why the fuck should i, huh? ‘m not the one that fucked up, _you are._ ”

A silent yawn draws from your mouth, and as you slowly prop yourself up to the sight of the kitchen light on, mind foggy and confused, anxious and curious alike, you stop.

“what? no, we "

 _"what the fuck,_ _blue_.”

Uh. There’s… two of him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> undertale sans : impact  
> undertale papyrus : paps  
> underfell sans : drux  
> more to come as added !  
> [here's my tumblr, where i'm taking asks, imagines, and more!](http://scripttura.tumblr.com)


	2. cruelty's a fickle thing

The sudden snap in the air is suffocating. Like ice cracking with it’s chill and sharp fringes alike popping in your ears, nevermind the static electric charge burning at your skin and the inaudible yet ( somehow ? ) booming snap of thunder - it all happens at once, faster than you know, and while you’ve never explicitly felt sans’ magic alone, you know that’s what this is.

Magic. His and the… _other one’s._

You’re pressed against the back of the couch, chest heaving while curses of all kind spill from the newcomer’s fanged maw; sans’ skull is screwed into concentration and anger alike, an expression that just doesn’t look _right_ on the usually so jovial and distant comedian.

He’s holding the other skeleton by magic alone to the floor near your feet, where he snarls angrily, only to hiss out what _might_ be a whine at the feeling of what must be sans’ magic ( like _ice_ , cold and frightening and _depthless_ ) sharpening even thicker into the air.

He had lunged at you. He had lunged at you, and even now beneath the luminescent pale blue outline of his body, his claws lay outstretched, monstrous looking things even to sans’ own ivory phalanges. His left eye mirrors Sans’ ghostly trail of cobalt with striking ruby, only his is fading, set on you hard and fast as he grows silent.

The feeling of static, like the build-up of an electrical storm before lightning strikes, fades. You don’t know what to say. Your throat feels chokingly tight, it had happened all so _fast._ Nevermind the fact the stranger who looked _near identical_ to Sans had blindingly lunged at you, but Sans being so _fast_ to pin him - nevermind using his magic to do it!

“ **_Drux_ ** **.** ” You’ve never heard sans _snarl_ like that. It’s softer than - Drux’s ? - but has it’s own threat to it all the same, knowing and hard in its weight. His teeth are bared in a stretched out grin, yet sweat dapples his forehead all the same.

He’s waiting for something, and while you look from Sans to Drux, how that one fading red eye turns to two glinting embers in each socket. He stares you down until eventually he seems to give in. His body seems to settle into it’s weight on the floor and he looks away, to the corner of his eye-sockets.

“you’re not gonna do it again?” The more familiar skeleton asks to Drux’s unspoken defeat.

His teeth bare again, and the grumble is far less a snarl this time, “just lemme the fuck up already, blue! i ain’t gonna touch your _pet._ ”

“I’m _not_ his pet.” A beat. You choose the moment to finally speak, your own nose crinkling.

“no?” Ruby lights swing your way once more, burning into you. Those teeth take a cunning curve, and his voice sounds almost condescendingly sweet, “oh fuck, _‘m so sorry princess_ . that’s what you are right? _a princess_ , thinkin’ you can _tell me what to do -_ ”

“ _drux -_ ”

“- but hey, even if you _were_ royalty, i’d _still_ kill ya fucking dead , so _shut it._ ”

You blink. You’re not so much offended - or threatened? Not when he’s on the ground by Sans’ magic holding him hard and fast, though something unnerves you by how at _ease_ he seems under it - just… surprised? His threat is laced with venom, true and true, and he huffs to look back to the Skeleton you know out of the corner of his sockets once more.

“are you done yet?” Exasperation is defined in the lines of Sans’ skull alone, as if this whole routine isn’t new to him. You, on the other hand, still have no idea what’s going on, but slowly have started to ease from being pressed against the back of the couch.

“yeah yeah. now let go. i got mustard of yours t'drink, asshole.”

Sans sighs, and pauses before shooting you a look. You can’t quite read it, but the way his smile tips up at the corners is in no way friendly. No, but not outright bitter either: you just can’t _read him_ , can you?

Then the magic dissipates, said skeleton lowering his hand as cobalt fire turns back to those two star-like lights hanging fadedly in his sockets. His shoulders slump, his expression ragged. You never really got the chance to look him over before you were lunged at and the world snapped - he’s not wearing his hoodie, long sleeves rolled up and covered in what almost looks like stains if you’d been working with machinery. The same shorts as always, same slippers, but a pair of red, large framed glasses are folded at his collar, only shattered.

The stranger, however, looks no worse for wear. He picks himself up with surprising grace and that same twisted snarl on his teeth, grumbling all the while. Brushing himself off, he’s… about the same size as Sans? No. _Exactly_ the same size. In fact, almost _everything_ is exact.

It’s as if you took Sans and… made him _edgy_ . Sharpen his teeth to interlocking fangs, scars touching his bones almost everywhere you looked; not that you could _see_ much. He must be wearing at least three layers! A thick black and red jacket with a hood _much_ fluffier than Sans’, a turtleneck sweater, and a long-sleeve shirt beneath that, too. He wore shorts all the same, and unlike Sans’ slippers - yellow and black tennis shoes.

You were confused, to say in the least.

“I don't understand. What’s going on?”

But you should know better than to press. Even as Drux glares at you scathingly, he turns on his heel back into the kitchen - all the while, Sans is still giving you that look. That quiet knowing one, distrust the only thing you can read in that ever-present smile of his.

“you don’t need to.” His tone is surprisingly clipped. “when’d you break in here anyways?”

“I didn’t _break in?_ ” Your voice pitches and you sit up straighter, nearly swallowed whole in the large blanket Papyrus had been so kind to get you. “Papyrus _let me in._  I asked him ‘are you sure sans would be okay with this’, and he said _yes,_  s _o_  what else was I supposed to do? Sleep in the _snow_ again?”

You don’t mean to sound so scathing. And yet, unfamiliar laughter dredges up, husky and ragged all the same from Drux, holding a bottle of mustard up near his teeth. He’s wandered back in to watch you and Sans, leaning against the kitchen doorway, amusement gracing his smile.

“oh shit blue,” He snickered, “i _was_ wrong. sounds like you got more of a _pest_ problem than a _pet._ ” For all the humor he seemed to find in this, Sans didn’t share it, and neither did you. Sans’ quick look to him made Drux’s expression quiet and he shrugged, still smiling all the same, “just sayin’.”

Sans sighed, speaking as he looks back your way, “look, kid. you can’t keep staying here -”

“Then _where_ , Sans?” Challenging him couldn’t be a good idea, but you were desperate. He had to know that, right? Ever since you fell down that stupid hole no more than a month ago, things had been… _hard_ to say in the slightest. Not to say monsters weren’t kind, Toriel and Papyrus shining examples, but whether in the Ruins or Snowdin, you were hassled and confronted wherever you went - _even_ by monsters who didn’t know you were human!

You had nowhere to go. Monsters were kind, but seemed to mostly see through you. You had no home, not down here, and you had no gold. The inn was too expensive, and you were tired of breaking and entering just for a place to sleep that wasn’t going to kill you - and even then, it could, if the wrong monster found you sleeping defenselessly.

So when Papyrus had offered his couch for the first time? _Of course_ you took it. But you had nowhere else to go. _move forward,_ sans would sigh, but move forward _where?_ To Waterfall? Where Undyne waited, the Princess and Captain you’ve heard about all rolled into one, with an unfettered and undying hatred for humanity?

No. No thanks.

Besides, your drive to reach the surface as is was… weak. You really had nowhere else to go, and it seemed Sans didn’t care - or didn’t _want_ to care.

“I can’t sleep at the inn, I don't have the gold,” You explain, and do so excruciatingly slow. “And I’m not going to steal it, or get a _job_  and you know that. I can’t keep breaking in to _other places,_  because who know will catch me. I’m not going to stay with anyone else, because either they know or they don’t, and if they don’t, they _will._ So yeah, let me just sleep out in the snow again, and see how many _fingers I lose._ ”

A sigh escapes you, short and huffed, your shoulders dropping. You didn't like being so tense, nor so sharp - not with anyone. But either Sans wasn't getting it, or he needed to just say what he meant.

“Sans, _Papyrus_ let me in, and as far as I know, it’s his house too. I can’t keep going forward - I don’t want to. I’ll die, and you _know it._ ”

A tense silence sets over the room. The way Sans and Drux look at you alike is… unsettling. Both of their expressions mirror the other: not angry nor humored, but… open. Softened, maybe?

The voice first to speak isn't one any of you are expecting.

“THE HUMAN'S RIGHT AND YOU KNOW IT, BROTHER.”

The look the duo share is a unique type of mortal terror. Alike in so many ways and not - Drux just about slinks into the kitchen with a muffled curse, while Sans’ shoulders drop and his smile softens, genuinely so.

Only it's not. It's not genuine at all. He's making himself soft for Papyrus alone as he descends the stairs, dressed still in his pajamas. He must've been woken up by all the comotion, and you feel relief break the tension in your chest.

You're not sure why Drux hid himself away in the kitchen, but you're not going to ask. If you're reading this right, and you think you are…

You shoot sans a look. The one he gives you is half chilling, half pleading.

… So whoever Drux was, he doesn't want Papyrus knowing.

Leverage.

“JUST EXACTLY _WERE_ YOU SAYING TO OUR HUMAN FRIEND, SANS?”

Papyrus has the talent of looking both scathingly disappointed and genuinely curious in one look. Childishly charming and slyly cunning is an expression he pulls of _frighteningly_ well. He even shoots you a wink! It's such a kid-like gesture, and yet from him it feels genuine and authentic ( dare you say _charming?_ ) and you relax all the same, giving him a small, bashfully grateful smile.

Sans, on the other hand, gets about as close to shrinking back as he can: shrugging and widening his smile even more dopely. “i dunno. i was just, y’know, makin’ sure they hadn't broken the law.”

Papyrus’ face falls _immediately._ “SANS -”

“... bein’ under a _rest_ and all when i came in.”

Papyrus groans, and it's only partly good-natured, and were it any other situation? You'd even crack a smile if you didn't know any better. Disarmingly humorous. It's dangerous, the way Sans wields humor like a weapon to pacify his brother.

“ _REALLY?_ ” Tall skeleton sighs, crossing his arms: sans, for all his defense, just winks, grin taking a fiendish look.

“what can i say, bro?” His laughter doesn’t sound exactly _kind_ , but you’re only just starting to pick up on that, the way it chortles hollowly in his chest, “‘m pretty _humerus._ ”

Papyrus seems about at his wits end, drawing an ungloved hand down his skull, “COMIC SANS FONT, MAKE _ONE MORE JOKE._ ”

“...”

“GO ON, I DARE YOU.”

“...”

“... REALLY. _TRY ME_.”

They’re just staring each other down. Sans is sweating. Papyrus’ expression has turned near serious as it can get. From the kitchen doorway you see a flash of red and a sudden low curse - Papyrus’ head turns, but you clear your throat to drag both his and Sans’ attention in a split decision.

“Come on Papyrus,” The smile you wear is weak. “He’s not telling a _fibula._ ”

You don’t like having to come to Sans’ aid, nor the skeleton hiding in the kitchen. But the look the former shoots you is almost… grateful? Confused, but relieved all the same. Papyrus stares at you blankly for a moment, and while your joke has fallen a bit flat, it got the job done, didn’t it?

But now that you have both of their attention...

“... Seriously. I’m really sorry. If I had any other choice trust me, I wouldn’t bother you Sans - _Either_ of you. But...” Your hands wrangle the blanket nervously, and you look down, trying to clear your head. “... I really don’t have anywhere else to go. I meant what I said the first night - I really _didn’t_ plan on making this a regular thing but I just don’t ...”

You look at Sans, and try for sincerity. His eye-lights are as faded and unreadable as ever, and although they seem… softer, but that may just be for show.

“Sans, I’m sorry that I didn’t make sure you were okay with me sleeping over in the first place. I didn’t mean to upset or offend or snap at you like I did. I’m just…”

Frustrated. Upset. Exhausted.

Weary.

“... You know.”

You mean to say it offhandedly. But the way you meet his gaze, and the way his smile twitches it more of a tell than any words he could give. You think he truly might have _some_ idea of what you’re going through, if in some way. You can see it in the way he deflates, and turns askance all while shrugging his shoulders again.

“... yeah, i get’cha kid.” He’s a lot better at the off-handed thing. Even as he looks at you from the corner of his eye-sockets, voice turning a bit hard, “but if you’re gonna drop in from time to time, you gotta check in with me first. and help around the house if you do. and uh… hang out with my super cool bro, of course.”

Papyrus, for all intents and purposes, looks near ecstatic at the near one-eighty in tone for the conversation. You’re not sure if you’ve just touched something in Sans, finally breaking through to him, or if he’s only being amenable because of Papyrus and Drux’s ( hidden ) presence.

“THEN IT’S SETTLED!” Papyrus clasps his hands together excitedly, but without his gloves, the sound is harsh and abrupt, causing you to wince. “OH - UH, WHOOPS! SORRY, HUMAN! BUT FROM NOW ON, YOU CAN STAY ON OUR COUCH AS YOU LIKE UNTIL YOU’VE COME TO AN ARRANGEMENT! AND I, THE MAGNIFICENT PAPYRUS, SHALL HELP YOU WITH SUCH!”

Oh, his smile could probably outshine the sun, and you return it, albeit with much less strength.

This is good. You’ve got a place to crash if worst comes to worst, so long as you let Sans know sometime in advance. You’ll do your best not to step on any toes while securing some kind of solution - you were still figuring Snowdin out, let alone the Underground, and having at least _some_ steady ground under your feet would be a good starting point.

Funny. You’ve never had the motivation to actually _do_ something for yourself before now.

It’s… actually more relieving than you could have possibly imagined. Something breaks in your chest, chokes at your throat, and tries to well in your eyes. You realize almost too late, and with your now watery smile laugh out a little broken thing, and wipe at your eyes, feeling almost too embarrassed to look at the duo.

“I - thank you. Thank you, really. I… I know it’s stupid but it’s… _god_.” You laugh again, a softer, still a little choked up before swallowing and clearing your throat.

“HUMAN, ARE YOU - OH STARS, ARE YOU OKAY? I DIDN’T MEAN TO UPSET YOU! WAS IT SOMETHING I -”

You grin up at him, and wipe away the last of your tears, and how his expression scrunches, “No! No, oh my god. I’m just… happy. Relieved, y’know? It means a lot to me, just having somewhere to go to if I need to.”

Papyrus’ expression softens, so much so it’s almost painful to look at. He’s so kind, and the way he smiles now is such a soft, kindly thing. He even goes as far to lower his voice, “Of Course, Dearest Human. It Would Be Cruelty To Offer Anything Less.”

_It would be cruelty to offer anything less._

That tightens your soul.

“... what my bro said.” Sans’ voice cuts in a little unexpectedly, and he’s not looking at you or Papyrus. Just off to the side, hands pushed into the pockets of his shorts.

Sans doesn’t seem to want to say anything else, even at yours and Papyrus’ inquisitive glances.

So, instead, the taller of the two stands to his full height once again, smiles in that charmingly sweet way of his, and bids the two of you adieu for the night. He explains rather cryptically he has a dream he needs to work on trapping, which sounds crazy if you didn’t know Papyrus personally.

He scoops Sans into a rather large hug, then, bends over to give you one as well. You’re not sure how you feel about being left alone again with Sans and company, but it’s still dark outside in that artificially bioluminescent way Snowdin has of keeping time. You could still sleep, you think, if Sans keeps to his words behind his brother’s back.

You don’t mistake the way Papyrus lingers as he rises the stairs, gaze stopping on Sans.

“OH, AND SANS?”

“uh, yeah bro?”

“DO INTRODUCE ME TO YOUR FRIEND TOMORROW, WOULD YOU?”

The way Sans sputters is _priceless_ , as is the sound of bones hitting tile from the kitchen, presumably, from Drux knocking on his ass in his surprise. You can’t help but jolt out a laugh, even as Sans flushes a soft blue, and Papyrus winks once again almost triumphantly.

“GOOD NIGHT, SANS! GOOD NIGHT, HUMAN! GOOD NIGHT, SANS’ FRIEND!”

“are you _fuckin’_  with me-”

“Night Papyrus!” You can’t help but wave, silly as it is, but he has such a _presence_ around him that makes it feel anything but. The skeleton waves back as Sans returns his good night, promising to be up soon to read him properly to sleep.

And, with the click of Papyrus’ door, you’re once again left alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hc that each of the alternates / most monsters in general each have a certain feel / association to their magic ! sans' is that of the artic, cracking like ice and cold as the chill in snowdin. drux's that of an electrical storm, the use of his quick-draw magic alike thunder in unheard pressure. like i said, these characters are very developed, so feel free to ask questions!
> 
> i also love to take a rather different approach to each of these characters as a result: papyrus ( and later swap!sans ) will in no way 100% be the cinnamon rolls you know them to be . papyrus has an almost sly , if not sarcastic humor at times , almost rivaling his brother in his edgy jokes . 
> 
> also big thanks to my bf latin for letting me use his characters verto ( underswap ) and sila ( birdtale ) for future contributions in the story ! be on the lookout for them and many more as we go along !
> 
> undertale sans : impact  
> undertale papyrus : paps  
> underfell sans : drux  
> more to come as added !
> 
>  
> 
> [here's my tumblr, where i'm taking asks, imagines, and more!](http://scripttura.tumblr.com)


	3. Chapter 3

The silence left after Papyrus’ absence isn’t anywhere near as tense as it was before he came to your rescue. In fact, you feel a lot more in charge and comfortable with the situation as a whole, even as Drux and Sans get over their shock of having been caught on to from the very beginning.

You, on the other hand, are still trying not to feel so emotionally volatile from all that’s just happened, and sigh gently to relax. You’re still tired, achingly so, and you think if given the chance, you could absolutely fall back asleep at a moment’s notice.

Then again, looking over to the two skeletons that currently keep your company, you’re not sure that’s a good idea. Not with Sans staring blankly where Papyrus had paused midway up the stairs, Drux coming out of the kitchen doorway nearly swaggering in his gait, the front of his jacket covered in what is, undeniably, a  _ gigantic _ mustard stain.

You try not to laugh. And fail. Spectacularly.

“Oh my  _ god - _ ”

Drux, for all the spite he has, snaps his teeth at you, the  _ click _ of it audible and threatening but doing nothing more than to stop you from laughing, and knocking Sans back into focus. His gaze swings to Drux, and he tries,  _ very hard _ , not to smile. To be fair, he smiles all the time, so it’s impossible to tell if it’s at the red-clad skeleton or not. Who knows? Drux doesn’t, and he won’t, far as Sans is concerned.

“shut up.” Drux grumbles, and sighs as he looks the stain over once again. “ _ seriously _ , blue. i know yer fuckin’ laughing at me - and you too princess.  _ you  _ laugh at me again and i’ll pull your fucking spine out from your throat, got it?”

For some reason, once again, you’re don’t exactly  _ feel _ very threatened. You know, quite easily, that the way Drux hands out threats must come just as easily to him as puns do Sans. They devalue significantly in that regard, and you can’t help but shrug off-handedly, your smile falling away to something not so kind.

“Uh huh. I’m  _ sure _ you would.”

… Maybe provoking him isn’t the best idea, but whatever threat trailing behind the snarl building in his ribcage Sans cuts off. His amusement must be hidden, because his tone has once again taken that rare, serious edge to it; a kind that seems unique to Drux alone, soft and chiding all at once. Understanding in a way you feel openly left out of.

“drop it, drux.” The look the skeleton in question shoots Sans is akin to  _ ‘are you kidding me?’  _ but the original holds his ground firmly. “i mean it. you know the rules.”

“Rules?” Your brow frowns, Sans not even bothering to turn fully from Drux to give you a cold look from the corner of his eye-sockets. Whatever moment you thought you had is gone, or seemingly so, if it was ever there to begin with.

“you too. keep your nose in your own business, kid.” You shrink back, for all but a moment, before rearing back up again, about to retort before Sans turns his skull fully to face you, fixing you with those sharp, cold lights of his. “i mean it. believe me or not, it’s for your own safety. go back to bed.”

You’re tempted to spite him, but you just bite your tongue instead, knowing it’s not a battle you can win. You only just got him to agree to letting you stay here when you needed to, and to be perfectly honest? You didn’t want to put that into jeopardy so quickly. From behind Sans, Drux looks on almost mockingly - tauntingly so, grinning devilishly. He knows everything you don’t,  _ both _ of them do, and you just don’t understand what’s going on.

Who’s Drux, and why does he look so much like Sans? Why did Sans try keeping him secret from Papyrus, and what rules was he talking about?

And why did Sans treat you so warmly one second, only to freeze you out the next?

You didn’t know, but you felt  _ Drux _ did. Drux, who just by  _ being  _ here, seemed to hold all the answers over your head, let alone with the way he held himself - giving you that cutting snarl of a grin. 

Sans, try as he might to salvage the situation, sighs and slumps into himself, looking away. He walks to the stairs after one last glance Drux’s way - knowing and warning all the same, you catch it from the couch - and stops on the first step, looking upward.

“... i’ll be down in a few. drux, grab whatever you want. it’s gonna be a long night.”

“aw _hell_ _yeah_.”

Looking back to Drux, he’s already turning on his heel to go into the kitchen, and the sound of him rummaging isn’t far behind. Sans doesn’t even so much as spare a glance back in your direction ( that you catch ), before he slips into Papyrus’ room, leaving the door barely an inch ajar - and it’s enough to get the message.

You weigh your options. Corner Drux in the kitchen without Sans running reluctant interference and trust in his pressing of the ‘ _ rules’ _ , or stay where you are and figure what’s going on from afar by playing nice? Either way, you’re invested, and you need to know - not just for curiosity's sake, but it feels important. Vitally so.

They're keeping things not just from you, but from everyone. Even family, and by Sans’ own admission,  _ for your own safety _ . 

Then again, you remember the way Drux's jaw interlocked in a tangle of fanged teeth, a golden tooth set in a ragged scar from whatever happened to it's predecessor. You remember the feel of his magic, static on your skin and like a crack of silent thunder, as muffled as it had been beneath Sans’ own. And finally, you remember how he had sat there, under his mirror's grasp, like he was more mildly inconvenienced than anything.

How it gave you the idea, come to it, if Drux really wanted you dead, you'd already have your spine torn from your throat.

It shouldn't encourage you, but it does.

Your step is light, the low buzz of Sans’ voice a quiet thing in the house from upstairs as he reads his brother to sleep - it’s a surprisingly soft gesture from a skeleton that didn’t seem to care about much as far as you could tell. Drux in the kitchen, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to care what racket he makes as he openly scrounges the fridge and cabinets, a crooked curve to his teeth.

Before you can even cross the kitchen doorway, the contents of the kitchen spilling onto it’s own counters in the stranger’s eager thieving, you’re caught.

“i wouldn’ step over that doorway if i were you,” it’s almost friendly, the way Drux says as much, still rustling through. He grins victoriously when he finds a hidden bag of… dog treats (?), and scrunches his nasal ridge in disgust at every bottle of ketchup he passes. You notice he’s a lot more expressive than Sans - perhaps even more so than Papyrus, the way his skull twists with his words.

You stop. Something about the casual tone of the threat makes it feel more genuine than the rest.

The monster hums, almost approvingly, and something like mirth shapes his next words, “oh,  _ good kid - _  you  _ can _ listen. ‘cause see, thing is, ‘m pretty sure blue told you to mind your own damn business. nevermind t’just go the fuck back t’sleep.”

As he speaks, his voice takes on a snarl to it, condescending and harsh all the same.

“but here y’are. and if you so much as step over that line? i’ll just tell ‘im it was self defense. and hey! asshole’d believe me,” The way he laughs is a cackling, rough sound, “i bet he’d be  _ relieved to _ , even. just another dirty human. so kid,”

Drux looks you in the eye now, having slowly assembled his collection of hidden mustard bottles, dog treats, and grillby’s leftovers. You stare back, unabashedly, the weight of his words cold and gripping, yet on fire with the sincerity of them.

“- if you wanna give me th’perfect excuse for killing you, go right ahead. blue’d be happier, you couldn’t  _ manipulate _  his brother anymore, and i’d get t’stretch out my claws a bit.”

“But I don’t -”

His teeth click shut. A sharp, dangerous sound, and his skull twists into a near ugly snarl of fangs. It makes you stop, heart thudding in your chest, eyes wide - it’s so strange, looking at him, hearing the way he speaks almost theatrically, but in such an… enthralling (?) way. You’re not sure what it is, but you almost hang on every word, threatening or not.

“you  _ do. _ ” guttural, it tears lowly from him, those twin embers burning into you. “so take my advice,  _ princess _ . go sit the fuck down, and  _ don’t _ give me th’excuse i’m looking for.  _ got it? _ ”

You stand there.

You know why you can’t help but listen to the way Drux speaks; he holds all the answers, and unlike Sans? The way he threatens you, riffs through his words and snarls is  _ truthful _ . You don’t doubt if he had every chance and excuse, he’d kill you, so you decide, quietly, you won’t give him that chance.

Stepping away from the doorway feels like losing, the way he grins sharply, once again holding it over you.  _ But that’s fine,  _ you think,  _ Because he was telling the truth. _

Unlike Sans.

Sans, who knew everything you wanted to know alike Drux, but who hid under jokes, his smile, deflection and a sharp, cold shoulder. Sans, who from say one had looked at you and had been nothing if not distant and cruel in his own off-handed treatment. Sans, who Drux just told you, would be happier if you were dead - no,  _ relieved. _ That the way Drux said that made it sound like he… couldn’t get rid of you himself.

Drux didn’t strike you as a liar, and while you didn’t really get to  _ ask _ him anything, you still feel as if you’ve learned something important. Something you can’t quite put into words, but that make you look at Sans a bit differently as he finally comes down the stairs, those first few seconds past the door as his mask from being around Papyrus falls.

He’s exhausted. His shoulders and skull lay slumped, his smile a ghost of a shell. Lines under his sockets, those nicks and scars on his hands you’d only barely had time to notice or look at before. The way he holds himself is that of defeat, like a broken down building still standing on it’s own cracking foundation.

Sans just looked… tired.

But when he looks up, and sees you looking at him, he stutters. You notice it, in a split of a moment, the way his skull twitches, his step stops, chest catches on itself ( surprisingly, skeletons breathe - you’d asked papyrus days prior, and he’d laughed and said they didn’t  _ need to _ , no! but it could be a pleasant, even soothing sensation, drawing air against inner rib-cage ).

Was that fear?

You don’t know, but it isn’t long until he sharpens once again, and you look away, back to getting settled for the night. He’s quick to go into the kitchen where Drux is doing some last minute scrounging, and you catch some of what they’re saying.

“you, uh, raid my whole kitchen while you were at it?”

“yeah? ‘s not my fault you’ve got jackshit downstairs. what kinda shit stashes are you keepin’ anyways? best i could find -”

“ _drux._ c’mon, please. let’s just get this fixed.”

“... yeah, whatever.”

The kitchen light goes out, leaving just the soft luminescent from outside the windows. It’s enough to see the way Sans doesn’t even look your way, holding the door open on the porch for Drux to follow  - but Drux? Drux, with those two glinting rubies for eyes?

You don’t miss the way he winks, grin a terrible, terrible thing.

  
  
  
  


It turns out you were wrong about being able to go back to sleep easy: you weren’t sure what time it was when they left, but it still had to be late for Papyrus to voluntarily choose to go back to bed in the middle of it, considering he’s such an early riser. You were almost worried he’d be up again before you fell asleep, tossing and turning on the lumpy, oversized couch that made most of the living room.

It was too much to think on. As is, you’d been trying to avoid the very real, and very concrete facts of your new life in the underground, and Sans’ mystery just added a whole new layer to it.

You were trapped. The Underground wasn’t a place you could move forward or backwards, very much less stay in one place for forever. Drux had a point.

_ don’t give me the excuse i’m looking for. _

Any wrong move felt lethal. As is you’ve been lucky to make it this far with just a twisted ankle, the people of snowdin kindly if not odd in their own ways. It was the royal canine unit that had given you the most trouble, and the memory of cloaked figures swinging halberds at you has your fingers clutching to the blanket.

You’d been so scared, and yet, given the chance, how quickly they had turned kind.

Monsters were such  _ genuine _ folk. Quick to work on their ideas and assumptions, but full of honest intent - very little few seemed like genuine liars, except for one.

Sans.

You didn’t know what to do. Something in you pushed that this needed to be solved, figured out,  _ fixed _ , but it frustrated and ate at you all at the same time. Why did you  _ care  _ so much?

… Why did you care at all?

Swallowing in the dead of the night, you try to will the question away.

You had a plan. You’d stay with the skeleton brothers on and off until you could find more footholds in this small town - there was nowhere else to go. If you were lucky, even make some kind of living while trying to figure out what you actually  _ wanted _ to do.

And in the meantime? Keep an eye on Sans - and Drux.

Lastly? Get into that basement.

Sleep comes restlessly and full of nightmares of tangled jaws made of keys instead of teeth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the current love and feedback so far is ASTOUNDING! thank you to everyone who's reached out to share their enjoyment thus far, 
> 
> i'm more or less posting these as i crack them out, so the chapters have often very little to no proofreading beforehand, so if you look closely you can see me editing each chapter at least ten times to fix mistakes as i catch them. so apologies if you catch any weird grammar / spelling mistakes, i've been really bad with keeping the right tense, i know!
> 
> a couple of things! as for papyrus being a love interest or not, we'll see! i'm adding most tags as i go as to not spoil anything, and as is i've yet to decide the exact route; if i'm going to follow the original premise, or if i'm going way off course. papyrus is a bit of a more foreign character for me, so we'll see how he and your dynamic unfolds as we go along!
> 
> in the meantime, besides the tumblr, would people like for me to make a discord server? i know some recent fic writers do that sort of thing, and it could be a good way to get notifs when i update / other stuff... hm :thinking:
> 
> undertale sans : impact  
> undertale papyrus : paps  
> underfell sans : drux  
> more to come as added !
> 
>  
> 
> [here's my tumblr, where i'm taking asks, imagines, and more!](http://scripttura.tumblr.com)


	4. papyrus' promise

“Well, it could be worse.”

You’re looking over what’s supposed to be breakfast. Papyrus’ shoulders have hunched over, his large gloved hands holding the handles of the pot rather carefully. He looks… downtrodden, terribly so, but is quick to perk up at your words as you peak over to get a glance.

“REALLY? YOU THINK SO?” He’s too loud for whatever time of morning it is - he’d woken you up as is, with all his clamouring and shenanigans in the kitchen, light streaming in from the windows to tell you that at the very least, he’d been kind enough to not _purposefully_ wake you himself.

… Then again, now that you’re in the kitchen with him, stretching against the counter, he seems to be much quieter as he’d gone about making breakfast. You can never tell with him, between genuine kindness and the sly hint of his grin.

“- Yeah!” Yawning, you gently reach over for the stirring spoon, with a _may i_ gesture. The skeleton brightens considerably, steps back just so, and you stir the dish considerably. It’s nowhere near the mess it was the first night you spent over, and you’re quite proud of Papyrus - the smile that unconsciously touches your lips at the thought must tell him as much, because he nearly bounces in place, far too easily excitable.

“I KNEW I WAS GETTING BETTER! IT’S JUST DIFFICULT WITHOUT MUCH GUIDANCE, YOU UNDERSTAND! I TRIED _VERY HARD_ TO KEEP THE TEMPERATURE CONSISTENT, AND LOOK! NO GLITTER!”

There was, in fact, no glitter, to which you were _very_ grateful.

Even as you wince internally from his lack of volume control ( sometimes he grasps it, at others he fails to - you figure it has to do with his flighty attention span ), you look up at him with a smile.

It looks a lot more like actual spaghetti, that’s for sure. When you’d first sat down for dinner with the skeleton brothers a few weeks ago, what Papyrus had set before you had made you rethink every kind thing you’d believed thus far in him, only to come to the realization at Sans’ stern look that he was, in fact, just a _terrible cook._

Okay, not _terrible_ . As you’d come to find out, they just didn’t have cookbooks down here in the underground, and when Papyrus had served himself _oatmeal_ as you and Sans ate deadly spaghetti, you were extremely confused. He’d admitted later on, while Sans was there, he’d never actually had his own dish, only kept making it because everyone seemed to love it so much!

You had gently, and carefully, asked for him to, and the look he wore was _priceless._

Needless to say, you’ve been giving him cooking lessons here or there, and to your surprise, he’s actually catching on quick, and has a knack for it. He even promised not to serve something before trying it first hand, which was _very_ relieving.

“No glitter,” You confirmed, stirring through it once more, and let him take back over and gently advised he add a few select herbs had he had any, only to find he did have some - only a few you’d never heard of before. Echo flower root, cattail seed, snail powder, and quite a few more - you saw him gently try a bit of each before choosing what he thought was best, and, deciding yourself to have a bit of faith in your budding chef, reached longingly for one of many saving graces in the skeleton brother’s home - _the coffee pot._

“So, uh,” Looking around, it really was only you and Papyrus in the kitchen, which was strange. He was almost always with Papyrus whenever you were around, so the recent dodgy behavior was… different, to say the least. “... Is Sans joining us for breakfast?”

“BREAKFAST? HMPH. IT’S ALMOST MIDDAY, HUMAN! YOU SLEPT IN - AND I’M ALMOST SURE MY BROTHER DID AS WELL! THAT,” He paused, skull cocking curiously, “- OR HE’S IN THE BASEMENT. I’LL HAVE TO CHECK, AND SEE IF HIS FRIEND IS STILL AROUND. CATCH HIM WITH SOMETHING _REAL_ TO EAT BEFORE HE GOES OFF EATING MORE OF THAT DISGUSTING JUNK FOOD OF HIS. AH, AND SPEAKING OF JUNK,”

He fixes you with one of his _looks_ , disappointment and exasperation evident in that tone of his, “YOU _DO_ KNOW THAT STUFF WILL KILL YOU, DON’T YOU?”

You blink, holding the coffee pot awkwardly.

“Uh. Isn’t… that your cup right there?”

Deadpanned, “BUT _I’M_ ALREADY _DEAD_.”

You. You don’t know what to say - until you see the slight twitch at the corner of his smile, and nearly burst into laughter, confusedly and amused all at once. It was - such an _off putting_ , nearly uncharacteristic thing for Papyrus to say - let alone _joke_ about! He joins you, light, chittering laughter, flashing you a playful look in the process.

“Papyrus, you can’t just _joke_ like that!”

Papyrus, for all his grace and dignity, just raises his brow.

“OH, I MOST CERTAINLY CAN.” That smile of his turns wry, and he turns back to the spaghetti, and you… don’t miss the slight tangerine kiss to his cheekbones. “AND FROM THE WAY YOU LAUGHED, YOU CERTAINLY FOUND IT FUNNIER THAN MY BROTHER’S _INCORRIGIBLE_ SENSE OF… ‘ _HUMOR’_.”

Oh, you can’t help but grin, turning the coffee pot on, all set and ready to go. He’s nearly done himself now, mixing the sauce and pasta together, pulling out two, three - _four_ plates.

You almost go to tell a joke - a _pun_ , if only to exacerbate him further in the playful environment he accommodates so easily. Papyrus leaves you feeling far more relaxed than you could ever give him credit for, nevermind with what your world’s become. But at the sight of four plates, you pause, and consider asking if he’d like _you_ to go and try to get Sans, only he beats you to it.

Clearing his throat, he breaks into a softer tone, “I Did Want To Apologize, Nevertheless. While… While My Brother _Wasn’t_ Here.”

Something like shame creeps into those words, but the skeleton fends them off. You frown, coming closer.

“I’m not sure what you need to apologize for, Papyrus. You’ve… you’ve been really nice this entire time.”

“... Nice, Yes, I Think That’s A Good Way To See It.” See it? What did he…?

He turns the stove off, and pulls the pot off the hot burner, as to get a better look at you. His eye-sockets are soft, smile such a gentle thing, if not almost… bitter? You’re not sure. It doesn’t sit well on him, or with you for that matter.

“Human, You Need To Understand. I’m Sorry My Brother Has Treated You The Way He Has - He Thinks I Do Not See It, But I Do. Or, Perhaps, He Knows I Know, But… Simply Doesn’t _Care_.”

Why does that sting you so badly?

“But The Things Sans Has Done To Keep Us Safe - _Everyone_ Safe… Even I Know Not The Extent Of It All. He’s Always Been Haunted By Things He Refuses To Make Me Privy Of, And I Can Do Nothing More Than Try To Be There For Him When He Won’t _Let Me Be._ So Know That His Behavior Towards You Isn’t Personal - He’s… He’s Killed Humans Before.”

He’s killed humans before.

“But Most Importantly, It’s Because They _Scare_ Him. He Is Far Older Than I, You Know, So I Can Not Say I Share All The Reasons He Has For Such Fear. My Youngest Memory Is That Of A Life Underground, But Sans…”

Papyrus shakes his skull, sadly.

“... I’m Getting Off Point. Just Know It Is Not _You_ He Dislikes, But What You Are. That, And He Was Not Always This Way - I’m Not Sure What Has Happened, But Recently He’s Acting Like...”

The taller trails off, those eye-lights of his for once faded and dim. Thoughtful, like he’s looking not at you - but somewhere else, _somewhen_ else.

“... A Completely Different Monster.”

You… You don’t know what to say. Papyrus looks so lost in the idea of this, caught in what’s become of his brother - what you’re sure, is his only ( and possibly last ) family. No wonder he’s always so seemingly starved of attention and companionship, and it’s hard to imagine how he’s had to dealt with this for who knows how long.

You don’t know what Sans’ deal is, but you reach forward anyways, settling a hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry, Papyrus. That’s… in no way fair to you, and far as I can see, you’re a wonderful brother - you know that, right? Sans’ shortcomings isn’t… indicative of anything _you’re_ doing wrong.”

It’s obvious Sans cares for his brother. Or… must have. You’re not sure - his actions are so contradictory, you can’t quite put a pin on him, and you’re sure for Papyrus it’s only more conflicting. Nevertheless he smiles at you, coming back into focus, brightening up spendidly.

“WELL I - THANK YOU, HUMAN. FOR SUCH… KIND WORDS.” Again, that light touch of tangerine ghosts his cheekbones, “TRULY! ALL I MEAN IS… TO NOT HOLD IT AGAINST MY BROTHER. JUST TO GIVE HIM TIME, PERHAPS!”

“Sure, Paps. I can do that.”

You think back to last night. The moment you thought you had, and the polarizing behaviors he had behind Papyrus’ back. Then, you consider how much time you’ve had with him _alone_ , and realize - nearly none at all. The first time you met, of course, but… nowhere it wasn’t public, or someone wasn’t there.

Not par the time he let you inside, telling you so coldly he didn’t trust you.

You’d… have to catch him alone again.

“I promise.” You add, and hope you can keep it. The fact he’s killed other humans before sits with you oddly - but the way Papyrus phrased it made it sound… like a last resort. You really hope so.

“OH, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I TRULY APPRECIATE IT - AND I’LL BE SURE TO TALK TO HIM AS WELL! WE’LL GET YOU TWO BEING FRIENDS IN NO TIME!” And so, in true Papyrus fashion, he clasps his gloves together and grins brightly, before turning back to the stove to serve.

The smell of coffee and spaghetti alike is a strange one, and you’re about to finally ask about fetching Sans before the front door opens, the skeleton in question standing there, enigmatic as ever.

“that coffee i smell?”

  
  
  


Brunch is a strange affair. Sans gives away nothing as per usual, and when Papyrus berates him for staying in the basement all night and about the location of his friend, the way Sans shuts him out is even more cold than the way he treats you - condescendingly and with what you’d definitely call _kid gloves._

It’s upsetting, to say the least, and you can visibly see how Papyrus grits his teeth for lack of a tongue to bite, instead turning eagerly to show his brother his progress in cooking, serving him a plate while you pour both Sans and yourself a cup of coffee. He reacts amiably, but in no way excited for Papyrus, and when you hold out the cup for him, the way your brushed off is… just cold.

He takes it, barely giving you a glance in return.

The three of you eat with you and Papyrus carrying most of the conversation, Sans quiet par the opportunity to interject a pun here or there - his brother utterly exasperated but from what you can tell, putting up with it nevertheless.

You see the way the younger of the two almost eagerly feeds into _any_ interaction Sans has to give, even if it’s really the only thing he’s actively contributed to interacting with Papyrus this entire time. It’s… you can only imagine how Papyrus must feel, because for some reason, you feel _furious_ on his behalf.

But you just smile through it, and continue on, congratulating Papyrus where Sans doesn’t - it’s edible, and par the noodles being a big undercooked and over seasoned, it’s a huge improvement! You let him know you’re proud of him - and can’t wait to show him some more complicated dishes, if he’s interested, to which he agrees upon instantly.

He even mentions Undyne, and wishing she could learn as well - before trailing off, with a beseeching look your way.

The topic gets pushed away as quickly as it comes.

“So, Sans, what’ve you got planned for the rest of the day?” You leap on the chance to probe him, his plate empty - despite never seeing him actually _eat_ \- knowing he’d try to get away soon as he could. You’re sipping your coffee nonchalantly, eyeing the skeleton over the rim of the mug, trying to come off as nothing more than lightly curious.

He seems to pick up on you quicker than you’d like, faded lights setting on you with intensity.

Papyrus perks up, and looks to Sans, speaking before he can, “OH YES, I’D LOVE TO KNOW IF YOU _EVER_ PLAN ON RECALLIBRATING YOUR PUZZLES, BROTHER. FOR A SKELETON THAT SURE LOVES TO _WORK_ , YOU REALLY DON’T DO MUCH OF YOUR, WELL, YOU KNOW - _ACTUAL JOB._ ”

Work and sleep. You’re almost certain any moment Sans wasn’t watching you or slunking off somewhere, he was asleep. Papyrus had brightly explained early on he had near crippling narcolepsy, but used caffeine and… _other means_ to keep himself awake, but you didn’t pry. Even now, par his stiff look, he slumps into himself, eye-sockets lidded.

You’ve caught him sleeping dozens of times, really, but he’s always quick to wake up - jerking awake, or creaking open an eye-socket. It’s… unsettling.

Sans looks away from you to Papyrus, softening, before looking away from either of you, shrugging loosely. “oh c’mon bro. you know i work a ton -”

“SANS _OH MY GOD._ ”

“a skele- _ton._ ”

“I swear you reuse that _all the time._ ”

Sans winks, “a skele- _ton_.”

“OKAY, THAT’S ENOUGH!” Papyrus nearly stamps his foot from his chair, giving Sans a sharp look, “ _PLEASE_ TAKE A LOOK AT YOUR PUZZLES TODAY, BROTHER. IF THEY AREN’T KEPT UP IN MAINTENANCE, SOMEBODY COULD BE HURT IF THEY MALFUNCTION. YOU HAVE YOUR SHOW TONIGHT, SO _PLEASE_ , DON’T BLOW IT OFF.”

“Show?” You perk up, and notice the way Sans leans back into his chair with a soft sigh, sliding his gaze away.

“yeah, i got a gig on mtt tv. comedy routine.”

You’re… surprised? Not by the way he seems overly uninterested and apathetic about it - that seems overly par for the course, but the fact he has an actual _show_ on MTT TV. it’s just about the _only_ thing to watch, or the only thing Papyrus puts on - you’d been delighted to find that they had a working dvd and vhs player, scavenged along with some classics, but for the most part it was just the one tv channel.

The fact Sans was going to be on TV - maybe it was less sensationalized of an idea here underground, but you doubted it by both the eccentric robot host’s behavior and Papyrus’ near idealization of such - felt like it should be a bigger deal, but… that’s also how Sans was.

“DON’T BE SO MODEST, BROTHER!” Papyrus turns to you brightly, and reaches over carefully for your and Sans’ plate as he speaks, since you’re all done eating. “ _SOMEHOW_ SANS IMPRESSED _THE_ METTATON ENOUGH TO WARRANT A CASTING FOR HIS OWN SEGMENT - IT’S ONLY FIFTEEN MINUTES TONIGHT, BUT HE USED TO DO WHOLE HALF TO FULL HOUR SPECIALS! _AND_ _THEY’RE_ _ACTUALLY GOOD!_ ”

Sans barely blinks, picking at his teeth, even as Papyrus praises him as he’s standing from the table. He really holds his brother in high regard, nevermind the teasing and frustration that comes - and it’s pride that swells his voice, actual genuine appreciation for his brother’s craft: _comedy_ , as much as he detests his puns.

You shoot Sans a look, and he only shrugs once more, looking back.

“heh. well, thanks bro. in th’meantime i gotta get back to somethin’ - but i’ll get to my puzzles, ‘kay?”

Papyrus pauses at the counter, and seems like he wants to pry - you all knew ‘ _something’_ being the basement, but smiles sunnily over his shoulder, instead “THANK YOU, SANS! I’LL BE SURE TO CHECK TOMORROW JUST TO BE SURE - GOOD LUCK WITH TONIGHT!”

And with that, Sans gets up to leave, but you stop him before he can get far.

"Oh hey, Sans - If you want, I could… help you?” He blinks at you, almost blankly. “You know - with the puzzles? Since they’re… uh, meant for humans, right?”

“OH! THAT’S A SPLENDID IDEA!” Papyrus sounds genuinely enthused, speaking as he cleans up. “TAKE THE HUMAN WITH YOU, SANS! THAT WAY THEY CAN ALSO BE SURE YOU’RE ON TIME TO YOUR SHOW - AND DON’T OVERSLEEP WHILE WORKING IN THE BASEMENT!”

The basement? You didn’t fully mean -

“papyrus -”

“NO BUTS, SANS! TAKE THEM WITH YOU TODAY - BESIDES! I’M SURE IT’LL BE AN ADVENTURE FOR YOU BOTH! AN INCREDIBLE ADVENTURE FULL OF… BONDING AND - AND JOY, AMUSEMENT AND FUN ALIKE!” Oh, Papyrus. You can almost recognize the way he stops to look Sans dead in the eye, softening as Sans seems stuck in place, unsure - “ _Please_ , Sans. I Have To Report To Undyne Today As Is And You _Know_ What That Means -”

“... okay.”

_Okay?_

You really weren’t sure about _not_ getting a say in this - but it’s… what you wanted, isn’t it? Hand still against your mug, Papyrus chirps brightly in thanks to Sans, while Sans only looks casually inconsequential to what’s just happened, how  _easily_ he had folded. A day with Sans? You’re not sure you like the idea of it - but going into the basement? Time alone with him? That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?

“... you better get something a bit warmer than that on, kid.” His voice catches your attention, and you're quick to agree.

“Oh! Uh, right. Thanks, Sans. I’ll try to stay out of your way, promise.”

He just shrugs as you get up from your seat, full intent to try and find the coat you’d fallen down with, taking your now empty coffee mug and Sans’ alike to hand to Papyrus, the sound of Sans shuffling into the living room a quiet one.

Now, was it just you, or did… Papyrus just shoot you a look?

… Was this his plan all along?

“THANK YOU, HUMAN. DO HAVE A LOVELY TIME!”

He takes the mugs from you, and you think on it from the kitchen to the living room - Sans stands by the door casually, watching you with those fluid, faded stars of his. Papyrus convincing Sans to bring you along, including to the basement… Had he known you wanted down there? Or had it been nothing but a harmless suggestion from an overeager brother to get you two to get along?

Or did Papyrus want something else entirely?

You didn't know.

But you _do_ trust him, and so you grab your coat, wearing a pair of borrowed sweatpants from Sans, and your own shirt. The skeletons ( Papyrus mostly, Sans at his insistence ) have been kindly enough to help you on that department, and you nod at Sans and try for an appealing, small smile.

“Well, after you.”

He doesn’t say anything as he opens the front door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in one day,,, i just can't stop writing!
> 
> papyrus is surprisingly fun?? he's really coming to life for me - on the other hand, where sans is usually my main boy, he is dragging and kicking his feet all the way through! portraying him in this light and scenario is far different than usual, so it's interesting to say the least! but in case any of you haven't noticed i've updated some of the pairing tags ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
> 
> still curious if any of you have thoughts on me making a discord server for info on updates, q&a, general chat, sneak peaks / bonuses, ect!
> 
> the next chapter is where i ( might, if it doesn't get away from me ) introduce a _hell of a lot more skeletons_.
> 
> undertale sans : impact  
> undertale papyrus : paps  
> underfell sans : drux  
> more to come as added !  
> [here's my tumblr, where i'm taking asks, imagines, and more!](http://scripttura.tumblr.com)


End file.
